


Artwork, Flowers, and Found Family

by sailorchiron



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: 12 Days of Malex 2020, M/M, Malex Secret Santa 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27832144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorchiron/pseuds/sailorchiron
Summary: Malex Secret Santa 2020 gift fic!  Prompts: Artist AU, flowers, and found family.  Mission accepted!
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 24
Kudos: 78
Collections: 12 Days Of Malex 2020





	Artwork, Flowers, and Found Family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bean_me_up](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bean_me_up/gifts).



> @bean_me_up asked for an artist au, something with flowers, or found family - this is all three. Cross-posted on Tumblr.

Alex had dreamed of this moment since he was little. The moment when he would start a new life, away from Roswell, away from his family, away from the bullshit and abuse and pain.

He hadn’t realized he’d be so alone. 

The Santa Catalina School of the Arts had been his first choice of schools. He’d applied as a multidisciplinary student; his musical talents had been undeniable, and he’d submitted two original songs that had drawn applause during the audition. And his portfolio, both digital and traditional media, had been just as impressive, especially his paintings of the desert. For the teachers at a school in New Mexico to be impressed with desert imagery...Alex had been proud of himself. He’d been accepted and granted a full scholarship plus a living expenses stipend and warned by the head of the music department that when the theater professors saw his pretty face and heard his voice, he was going to find himself starring in productions. It had been so deeply gratifying to be appreciated for what he did best and to be welcomed into a community. 

Except now, when he was standing on the front steps of the dorms with all of his worldly possessions, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do with himself.

“Hey man, you lost?”

Alex shook himself out of his grim reverie and focused on the person who had spoken to him. And he was glad he did - this guy was _gorgeous._ “Oh, yeah, I don’t exactly know what to do.” He’d only been able to get to school because his dad had been desperate to get rid of him; he had no idea what to do without any kind of guidance. 

“I’m guessing you’re a freshman,” the boy stated kindly, “So you’re in the right place. Here, give me some of your stuff, I’ll help you out.”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Alex thanked him profusely. “Oh my god, thank you so much. I know I have a room in Santa Cecelia hall, but I don’t know how to get it.”

“Luckily I can help you with that.” He shouldered a couple of Alex’s bags. “I’m Michael, by the way.”

“Alex. Nice to meet you.” _Soooo nice to meet you._ Michael was a snack and a half.

_“Very_ nice to meet you,” Michael answered with a little bit of a flirt to his tone. Alex was the most attractive boy he’d seen in real life. “Do you know what room number you’re in?”

Alex shook his head. “No, the housing people said I’d get it today.”

“Cool, they should know at the front office.” He propped open the door with his body to let Alex into the building. “Go on over to the desk, I’m right behind you.” _And I might be checking out your ass._

A pretty girl of mixed heritage was at the front desk. “Hi there, how can I help you?” She immediately brightened when she looked over his shoulder. “Michael Guerin, what are you even doing over here?”

To Alex’s utter disappointment, she leaned over the desk to give Michael a hug and a kiss on the cheek. _I guess it was too much to hope he was either gay, available, or both._ He almost missed Michael responding with, “Maria DeLuca, when did you start working in the residence hall?”

“I’m just helping out for the beginning of the year,” she explained. “I’m a volunteer.” She focused her attention on Alex. “Are you looking for your room?”

Alex nodded, still feeling dejected from the flirty exchange between Michael and Maria. “Yeah, but I don’t know the number, they said I’d get it today.”

“Ooo, that’s good, that means you got a private room! What’s your name?”

“Alexander Manes.” He watched Maria flip through a printed ledger of some kind. “You’re in luck, my friend, you only have one flight of stairs to go up. You’re in room 214.” She grabbed a big keyring off the desk and opened a large box on the wall. After a moment, she turned back with a set of keys and grabbed a sheaf of papers from a bin to her left. “Okay, here are your keys. The big one is for your room, the small one is for your mailbox. And this keyfob lets you into the building after hours.” She pulled a small slip of paper out of the stack she’d gotten. “Here’s your key issue form, sign here. Do you have your student ID yet?” He nodded and pulled it out for her. “This sticker identifies you as a resident. You’ll have to show your ID at the desk every time you come in. Your mailbox number is C214. Your address is on your move-in forms.”

“Okay.” Alex was slightly overwhelmed. He hadn’t realized his scholarship had come with a private room or that he now had his own address, where he could get his own mail. “What about packages?”

“They’ll be here at the front desk, you’ll sign to get them out of package jail.” Maria handed him several sheets of paper. “This top one is acknowledging you got a handbook, it’s on the desk in your room. Your resident assistant will ask for it later. This one is a damages sheet. Fill it out with like, every, problem with your room so you don’t get charged for damages at the end of the year.” She handed him one last piece of paper, this one lavender. “This is the wifi and network info, how to use the laundry rooms, the guest policy, who to call for what problems in the building, and the clubs that are in Santa C.”

“Oh, okay.” Alex watched Maria take the key authorization form and file it, then put all of his papers in a big envelope. “Do I need to ask permission for Michael to help me carry this stuff upstairs?” He realized he hadn’t actually asked him to. “Sorry, I should ask, will you help me carry my stuff?”

Michael laughed. “I already said I’d help.” He tugged his wallet out of his pocket and held out his student ID. “Do I need to sign the log?”

She shook her head. “Nope, not for move-in day. I don’t even need your ID.”

“Sweet. Okay, Alex, up the stairs. You really are lucky, people on the 6th floor hate their lives.”

The one flight of stairs was enough with the huge crowd going both up and down. Santa Cecilia hall was an old building that had been a convent at one time, and the stairs weren’t especially wide and were a little bit uncomfortably steep. Alex had never been so happy to get off a set of stairs. “Which way would 214 be?” 

“It should be the east corner, actually. You really did luck out, most people would kill for a corner room.” Michael headed down the hall, which was full of people. “It’s not really any bigger, but it feels bigger with two windows.” 

“Do you live here?” Alex asked, a little out of breath from carrying a million things and trying not to be crushed by the crowd. He saw Michael shake his head. 

“No, I did last year though. All the freshmen have to live on campus unless they get a waiver to live with family within like 25 miles of campus.”

“Oh.” He’d been vaguely hoping that he’d see Michael around, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen. “Do you have an apartment?”

Michael stopped in front of a door. “No, a bunch of us have a huge old house and it’s almost like an art commune. Maria lives there, that’s how I know her.”

“Oh.” _I seem to be saying that a lot today. I must seem like such an idiot._ “Thank you for interrupting your day to help me.” Alex fumbled with his keys, finally realized they’d stopped in front of his dorm room. His hands were shaking a little, and he dropped them - only to be surprised when Michael caught them. “Oh, thank you.”

“Any time. And seriously, you didn’t interrupt my day. I just had a feeling I’d be useful and came over to campus. I showed up on freshman move-in day without a single clue what to do, and wanted to be here to help someone if they needed me.”

“I definitely needed you.” He pushed open the door to his room. “Oh my god.”

Michael followed his eyes and whistled. “Okay, whoever lived here last year must have paid out the ass for this.” 

The room, which was objectively just a small square with two windows, had been completely painted to look like Van Gogh’s _Starry Night._ It was totally unexpected and absolutely beautiful. “I’m so glad they didn’t paint over it.” Even the acoustic tiles on the ceiling had been painted black. Alex walked into the room carrying half of his life in his arms, and Michael followed with everything else. “There’s no denying I’m at an art school with this room.” 

“Right?” Michael laughed. “It’s really pretty, the person who painted this did a fantastic job.” He brushed his fingers over the wall, testing the texture. “It’s actual latex wall paint, not art acrylics or something. A lot of money and effort went into this. Congrats, dude, you have a private room, in a corner, that’s not one of the innocuous pastels all the other rooms are.”

“I don’t know what to say.” The room had two beds, two dressers, two desks, and two closets, even though it was his alone. “At least I know I can fit all of my clothes in here.”

“And you’ve got two desks, so you can have one for your computer and one for art projects at all times.”

“That’s true.” Alex looked at all his stuff, now sitting on the floor (with the exception of his guitar, which was on the bed). “Thank you for helping me.” 

Michael smiled slowly, knowing it was his sex look, and enjoying the way Alex blushed in response. “Want me to stay? I can help you get your stuff put away, then show you around campus.”

Alex’s heart fluttered. “Really? I’d love that.” _I’d really, really love that._

“In return, you have to agree to come play guitar with me at the house some time.” 

“You play guitar? Are you a music major?”

“I’m on the multidisciplinary track,” Michael explained. “I do music, visual arts, and theater.”

“I’m interdisciplinary too, music and visual arts. The committee said I’d get recruited for theater because of my looks.”

Michael responded with a low, dirty chuckle. “Oh, you will. If your singing voice is as nice as your speaking voice, as hot as you are? Yah, Dr. Anderson will slip on her own drool to get you on stage.”

_He thinks I’m hot?_ “I don’t know if I can act.” 

“Almost anyone can learn. You have ‘romantic lead’ stamped on your forehead. Girls are going to swoon over you.”

That cracked Alex up. “Good to know. The girls are safe though, I’m not a threat.” _I’m gay. I’m profoundly gay. I’m profoundly gay and apparently have a thing for curly hair and honey-colored eyes._

Michael gave Alex his sex smile again. “Good to know.”

They talked about a million different things while Alex unpacked. Michael shared that he’d been bullied in high school and had done an online charter program starting in 10th grade and had graduated from high school a year early, making them the same age; that he and Maria had dated for a while but decided they were better off friends, and that he was single; that his room at the house, or The House as it was known, was draped in hand-painted silk tapestries from an experiment the previous year that had gone remarkably right. He talked Alex into showing him his portfolio and was blown away by his drawings, and the photos he had of his paintings were unbelievable. “Where are they now?”

Alex smiled, almost giddy at the praise. “I sold them. Bean Me Up, the coffee house in my home town, featured local artists on the walls, and my paintings sold fast.” 

“That’s amazing. Your digital work is awesome, are you thinking about doing sequential design?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. American comics don’t appeal to me enough to want to make a career out of it, but I thought it might be cool to adapt a book I like into a graphic novel someday.”

“That would be fantastic.” _When his face lights up, and his eyes sparkle...I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this beautiful in my life._ “You know what this room needs?”

“What?”

“Christmas lights.”

Looking around the room, Alex could see the appeal. “That would be pretty, but August isn’t Christmas light season.”

“Lucky for you, I have like twenty extra strands at The House. Let me show you around campus, then we can go to The House and get them if you want. You can meet everyone, they’ll love your style.” Rosa was a hardcore rebel, her’s and Alex’s emo style would harmonize well. 

“Oh, okay. That would be great.” _Am I going to make friends today? What a novel idea._

The campus wasn’t very big, Santa Catalina was a small school, but Michael showed Alex the important spots, like the dining hall, the administration building, and the student union which had a bar with really lax attention to ID details. He pointed out the visual arts building, the theater, the music building, the academics building (even art school had academics), and the recreation center. “There’s a nice indoor pool. I don’t lift weights or run or anything, but I do go swimming whenever I can.”

“I love swimming, that’s awesome.” 

“This building has all the dance studios in it. Maria is a dancer, she’s great. The dance department puts on amazing shows. And let me tell you, the musicals we produce? Yah, they’re out of this world.”

Michael offered to buy Alex lunch on the way to The House. Alex decided that he was going to call it a date, and happily agreed, promising to buy lunch the next time. They ended up at a small local restaurant having chips and salsa and enchiladas before driving into the old neighborhood that contained The House.

“Oh, wow, it’s a misplaced Victorian,” Alex enthused as they pulled up to the curb. “It’s fantastic.”

“Isn’t it? I do woodworking as one of my areas of study, and I’ve made most of the repairs that the decorations needed. Rosa plotted out the color scheme and recruited people from all over campus to help completely repaint it the year before last. All I’ve had to do is match the colors with my repair work.”

Out of the truck, Alex could see that there were dozens of bird feeders and plants on the wide porch, as well as a swing and a table and chairs. There were candles everywhere and windchimes filling the air with music. He was officially charmed by the house. “When I pictured an artists’ commune, this is kinda what I had in mind.”

“Right?” Michael unlocked the door and let them into the dim hallway. “When the owners got it, it had been cut up into a triplex. Over the years it’s been returned to more of a one-family house, but we still use it like it’s an apartment building, but with almost no rules.”

The entry hall was painted a lovely shade of rose, and the floors had been lovingly restored. “I love it so far.” 

“My room is at the top of the house, it's a converted attic space.” Michael led the way up the stairs. “The ceiling is a challenge, but no one wants to share it, so it’s all mine.”

The attic was essentially the fourth floor of the house, and the final set of servant’s stairs to get up to Michael’s room was steep, narrow, and twisty. Whoever had added a railing to the staircase had used an organic, sort of art nouveau style and it was like a very stylized tree branch winding down the wall. The attic hallway was narrow and the ceiling was a little low, but not claustrophobic. Michael pushed open the cracked door to his room. _I’m glad I keep it relatively neat in here._

“Okay, I get the ceiling part.” Only the center of the room had full-height ceilings; being under the eaves, it sloped sharply in places. There were two dormers, though, and Michael had put small, cozy benches under them. Alex thought the room was wonderful. The slanted ceilings were sporting the painted silk tapestries like he’d said, and old oriental rugs covered the floor. Michael’s guitar was on a stand near the back of the room, next to a set of built-in shelves. There was a much-abused table acting as a desk that had a laptop and a million sketchbooks piled on it. “I love it.”

Michael sat down on the bed, not even thinking about it. His sheets were golden yellow right now, and his blankets were all multi-colored quilts. “It’s more my home than any of the places I’ve ever lived. I only left the walls painted white because I haven’t decided what color to paint them yet.”

Alex settled tentatively on the bed. “Did you move a lot as a kid?”

“Yeah, I was a foster kid. I don’t know what happened to me before I was around seven when I was found on the side of the road with two other kids. They got adopted, I didn’t.” Michael shrugged. “They’ve done their best to make sure I feel like their brother my whole life, but it wasn’t always possible. They’re both at other universities, so I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Oh my god, Michael, I’m so sorry.” He put a hand on his knee. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking away from your trauma, but I had a really shitty childhood too. My family is all military and it’s been obvious since I was little that I wasn’t going to fit that mold. I was bullied so much for being gay in a small town that I know how that feels too.” _Am I making a mess of this?_ “I mean, I’m trying to say, I get it, at least a little, about having a rough childhood.”

Michael covered Alex’s hand. “Thanks, that means a lot.” When he looked up he met Alex’s eyes and was struck by both the beauty of them and the depth of kindness and understanding in them. “We both got out, though, right?”

Alex nodded quickly. “We got out.” He felt his heart rate kick up when Michael turned his hand over and laced their fingers together. 

“I should probably interject here than I’m bisexual.”

“That’s, that’s good. I mean, that’s great.” _Are we holding hands?_

“I’m really glad I went over to campus today,” Michael said softly. “I feel like there’s something connecting us? It’s like something--”

“--Cosmic,” Alex finished. “I’m so glad you saw me looking like an idiot and took pity on me.”

Michael laughed softly and cupped Alex’s cheek with his free hand. “Can I kiss you?”

Alex nodded slowly, then quickly when he realized what Michael was asking. “Yeah.” He let his eyes fall closed as Michael pressed his lips, ever so gently, against his own. When he pulled away, Alex was immediately sure that was not enough but had a confession to make. 

“I’ve never kissed a guy before.”

“Am I your first kiss?”

“Well, not really, I had girlfriends before I figured out that I was gay, but you’re my first guy.”

“That’s still special in my opinion.”

“Definitely,” Alex agreed. “But just in case, maybe you should kiss me again? What if it’s a fluke?” 

Michael laughed and tugged Alex closer. “Good idea, just to make sure.”

They lost time, laying in Michael’s sunshine yellow sheets, kissing and learning each other’s bodies. Michael was sure that if Alex had never kissed a guy before, he hadn’t had sex with one, so deliberately kept things PG. The sun was starting to move west when Michael moved away just a little so that he could look into Alex’s eyes. “I really, really like you.”

“But?”

“No ‘buts’,” Michael answered. “I just felt like I should let you know we’re not having sex today.”

Alex giggled. “Okay, thank you, duly noted.”

“Have you…”

“No, I never tried with girls. I just wasn’t into it. For obvious reasons.”

“I feel like we should know each other a little better before we go there.”

“Yeah, we should.” Alex brushed the curls back from Michael’s forehead. “You are so unbelievably gorgeous, Michael.”

Warmed by the compliment, Michael replied, “You, Alex Manes, are the most beautiful boy I have ever kissed.”

“Thank you,” he answered shyly and leaned close for another soft kiss. “Didn’t we originally come over to The House to meet people and get Christmas lights?”

Michael laughed. “We did indeed. Wanna stop making out for a while and be social?”

“Probably a good idea, I’m actually really hungry.” 

“Come on then, let’s go downstairs.” 

There was a crowd in the kitchen, and Alex immediately shrank back, only to be tugged into the mix by Michael. “House members, please meet Alex.” He presented the black-clad teenager with a bow. “I have verified that he is an appropriate addition to The House.”

Everyone laughed and greeted Alex warmly. He met Rosa, who he felt an instant kinship with, in her flannel shirt and ripped jeans, and her sister Liz, who was actually leaving to go study biology the following week and hanging out just for fun. Maria was back from campus and teased them about how obvious it was that they’d been ‘getting to know each other’ in Michael’s bedroom for a couple of hours. Someone who was studying culinary arts was putting marinated steak and chicken on the grill, and the rest of the family pitched in to make things to go with the meat. Alex found himself cutting up tomatoes and onions for salsa, and he volunteered to do the peppers since he’d been making his own salsa for years. Everyone was surprised to learn that he loved cooking, and Michael made him promise not to do music, visual arts, theater, and culinary and make them all look bad. When he’d promised, Michael had kissed him on the cheek, and he’d blushed happily. _College is great._

And college turned out to really, actually, be great. Alex had spent an amazing week getting to know Michael and making friends with The House members and several people on his floor. There was a gay men’s chorus that met in the basement of the residence hall every Wednesday, and Alex signed up, amused and surprised that he’d be flaunting how freakin’ gay he was just by singing with a group. Michael had loved his voice when they’d played guitar together. The other boy’s was lower and a little rough, and went well with Alex’s lightly raspy tenor. They’d started learning harmony on a couple songs, and Alex had shyly shown Michael his original work, and they’d rewritten them with vocal harmonies that blew Maria and Rosa away. Alex really liked both girls, and felt comfortable with them, even though they hadn’t known each other long.

Despite all of that, Alex was nervous on the first day of classes. Michael and Maria had shown him where all of his classes were during the week, but he still felt awkward - he’d been bullied enough to know that people who acted nice weren’t always what they seemed. He also felt a little alone, since he’d been with Michael almost the entire week.

“Hey, baby, good morning.”

Alex looked to his left, and there was Michael, waiting for him outside. “Hi, what are you doing here? Isn’t your first class on the other side of campus?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but campus is small. I wanted to see you.” He smiled and opened his arms for a hug, and Alex immediately cuddled close, despite the warmth of the morning. “I thought you might be feeling anxious this morning.”

“I really am.” Alex pulled away a little and surprised himself by giving Micheal a little kiss - they’d never kissed in public before due to his own nervousness. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“One of my favorite things in the world. Ready? Basics of Traditional Painting is an easy class, and Mrs. Kisch is really funny and nice. You’ll do great.”

Alex smiled. “I’m looking forward to it, actually, I’ve only done acrylics and watercolors, never oils.”

“The first oil painting is a still life of fake fruit and some random bowls and pitchers, so it’s boring with a capital B. But then she’ll have you do original paintings, and that’s more fun. You’ll do some studies of popular painting styles and then she’ll let you loose on them. I sold all of mine, actually, except a Degas-style ballerina that I gave to Maria.”

_I’m going to paint something for Michael._ The idea filled Alex with joy.

Before they had to part ways to go to different classes, Michael gave Alex another tight hug and a lingering kiss. “We both have a break at noon, want to meet in the dining hall? It’s only $5 for me to get a meal there.”

“That would be amazing, I’d love to see you.”

“Me too, baby. See you then.”

It continued like that, meeting before class for a few minutes, then having lunch together. Michael had woodworking in the afternoon, and sometimes Alex would go hang out with him in the wood shop. They spent a lot of free time together, but Alex had confessed that he needed alone time sometimes, and Michael had been relieved, since he felt the same way. Even when they were apart, they texted back and forth, sending each other memes and sharing Maria’s hilarious TikTok dances. 

They’d made love for the first time on Michael’s sky blue sheets with the afternoon sunlight streaming in the windows, and the next day on Alex’s midnight ones. They had their first fight over an insensitive comment Alex had made, and he’d apologized with flowers after he’d realized he was wrong. He’d happily spent the two day break for Thanksgiving at The House; culinary students rocked at Thanksgiving dinner. He hadn’t even missed home, since they hadn’t had a family dinner in years. 

Christmas, though. That was harder.

Alex’s mom had left her abusive husband when he was 10, going back to the reservation and breaking off most of her contact with her four boys. It had been hell, and the abandonment still hurt. Christmas, though, on Christmas Eve she’d usually called him, and sometimes his dad would drive him and his brothers to the rez to see her. She was chronically depressed, but always tried to put on a brave face for them. Since his brothers had all joined the military, he’d only seen her a few times, and this year, being so far from the Navajo Nation, he knew he wouldn’t see her at all. The cell reception on the rez was nonexistent; she’d always called from the Wal-Mart parking lot where her phone worked. Alex had tried to call her to tell her about school, but she hadn’t answered or returned his calls, and it was a source of bitter sadness. 

Michael was absolutely _not_ having any of that. He explained the traditions of Santa Catalina Christmas and told him it was his solemn duty to participate.

“Okay, so every year, there’s a huge, I mean _huge_ Christmas tree in the old sanctuary of the admin building.” The admin building had been the chapel when the school was still a convent. “I am not exaggerating when I say huge. It’s a campus-wide effort to deck it out to the fullest extent. Apparently there’s a website where schools and museums post their trees for voting, and we just barely lost to the American Museum of Natural History last year. We _will_ win this year, and you _will_ be part of that.”

Alex felt that he had been _told._

The House decided to work together on the project, and the weekend of Thanksgiving, they started brainstorming ideas. Rosa proposed zillions of origami stars and animals, but that had actually been done in recent memory. Maria suggested an insanely long traditional popcorn garland, but that was vetoed on the basis of how easily it would fall apart. One of the girls worked in fabric arts, and suggested a garland of thousands of bright colored pom poms but she was literally the only one that liked that idea. Michael and Alex had thought something up while laying in bed, looking at the silk tapestries. 

“What if we made our own paper flowers and painted them like ombre/gradient colors? With that stockpile of handmade paper Junko has that’s taking over an entire quarter of the attic?”

“I love this idea!” Maria clapped her hands. “The more labor intensive, the bigger the bragging rights. Let’s do it!”

Junko was disgruntled that they planned to use all of her paper, but also knew that no one person could use that much handmade paper in a lifetime.

Alex suggested a tiny edge of metallic gold or silver on the petals, and that met with a resounding agreement as well as groans at how much more time it would take. “It will be worth it,” he promised. “These are going to be so pretty.”

Every night for two weeks all of The House residents, plus friends and significant others, gathered in the living room, furniture pushed against the walls for maximum floor space, to work on the flowers. One of the students who worked with metal sculptures had made three sizes of die cutters to avoid them having to use scissors carefully on every single one; Junko herself had figured out the best method for pulling and twisting the middles to make the petals ruffled. Rosa, with her gift for color harmonies, selected a range of rich jewel tones and coordinating pastels so that they could have variety that all went together. Alex had the most money of the group, with the savings he had from selling his paintings, money from his two part-time jobs over the summer, and his materials and living stipend, so he bought the expensive gold metallic paint. 

Working together every night was _amazing._

“Okay, who used all of the purple?”

Rosa looked at Michael. “Uh, you did.”

“There is no way I used all of the purple.”

“You used all of the purple,” she insisted.

“Fake news.” 

“Do you see anyone else with purple? No. You had the purple bowl.”

Michael sighed. “Do we have more purple?”

Alex laughed. “Sweetheart, you made, what, 27 purple flowers? That’s plenty of purple. Maybe do some goldenrod ones?”

“I swear on all that is holy, I did not use all the purple, we need more purple.”

Rosa fished around the pile of supplies before holding up the bottle of purple ink. Ink had turned out to work better than paint. “Yes, here is the purple, you left a _dribble_ in the bottom.”

Michael snatched the bottle out of her hand. “That’s my dribble, thank you very much.”

Cracking up, Alex leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s why you love me.”

“You’re right, that is why I love you.” He carefully, sparingly, dipped his tiny brush in the metallic paint. He was on gold duty. “This is the last dry flower in this pile, who has more?”

“I’ll get the box,” Maria offered, gracefully standing up from where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor. “I think we have about a hundred that are ready for gold.”

“Holy fuck, okay. Bring it on.”

“So how are we attaching these to the tree?”

Everyone looked at Rosa’s best friend, Bianca. “Damn it.”

Michael laughed. “Don’t panic. We can twist the wires on the backs onto the branches.” He turned the flower in his hands around to show the trailing ends of craft wire. “Just like a twist tie on bread.”

There was a collective sigh of relief that erupted into laughter.

In the end they had 312 small flowers, 254 medium flowers, and 198 large flowers. They’d settled on the style of the jewel tone on the edges, the petals fading into the pastels in the center. The ink itself had done most of the work, bleeding together on the homemade paper. Every single flower was edged in the shiniest metallic gold paint on the market, and they all looked fantastic. 

The Saturday before Dead Week, they carried the numerous boxes over to the administration building/chapel. About half the tree was decorated, and already looked awesome. It looked like the metalwork shop had made a bunch of snowflakes then aged them with a variety of colorful patinas. Fabric arts had done a variety of things, including tiny knitted sweaters that impressed everyone, little tiny stuffed bears which were equally impressive, and tiny beaded stockings. The students working with stained glass had fabricated an unbelievable star for the top of the tree with swirls of color throughout the overall golden glass. There were a couple of ladders against the wall, and The House got to work.

They spent several happy, laughter-filled hours making sure every flower was placed _perfectly._ Junko and Rosa, who were both incredibly short making them useless for the upper branches of the tree, stood back and made sure they were distributed evenly by both size and color. The absolutely huge number of paper blossoms was perfect for the ginormous tree, and they were so pretty that after they finished, the entire group just stood there for a moment, admiring their hard work, then circling the tree slowly to see the entire thing. 

“Breathtaking,” Maria declared. “Just breathtaking. Good idea, Malex.” 

“I think we’ve outdone ourselves,” Rosa said. “These are beautiful. I can’t wait to see the tree fully decorated.”

“The dance department special ordered a ton of tiny, rainbow-colored pointe shoe keyrings for ornaments.” Maria held her fingers apart to show how small they were. “We cut the loops for the key ring thingies off and sewed ribbons on them. Shana and Andre want to glue itsy bitsy poinsettias to them, but that would take for fucking ever. The shoes should be ready Monday so we can get them on the tree.”

“Can you sew?”

Maria raised an eyebrow at Alex. “Every dancer can sew. We have to put our ribbons on our shoes ourselves to be sure they fit our feet right. And we have to be able to repair a costume on the fly.”

“I had no idea.”

As they pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the chapel and walked outside they saw that it was snowing, actually snowing, in December. Enough had fallen while they were decorating the tree that everything was dusted with white, and the air was very still as fluffy flakes fell from the sky.

“It’s a Christmas miracle a little early,” Michael laughed, sticking out his tongue to try to catch a snowflake.

“You’re such a dork, I love you so much, Michael.”

Caught by the depth of emotion in Alex’s tone, he pulled him close and kissed him, deep and loving, as the snow fell around them.

They were shaken out of their dreamy little world by the entire House yelling and whooping at their display. Alex laughed, blushing, and Michael pulled him in tight and whispered, “I love you too, baby.”

As he looked at his boyfriend, the first person who had ever loved him, and all of the residents of The House laughing and cooing dramatically, he realized something. This was his _family._ These amazing people, they all accepted him just as he was, and cared about him like he was their own sibling. _I have a family. A real family. We may not share any blood, but we share something more important._

Christmas morning, Michael and Alex shared the presents they’d made for each other in secret, just the two of them, in Michael’s chilly attic room. Alex presented him a cubist painting of his beloved truck. 

“Baby, this is amazing. I love it, thank you so much.” They got lost kissing for a few minutes. “Okay, your turn.”

“What is it?” 

Michael laughed at Alex’s excited tone. “Merry Christmas, baby, I hope you like it.”

Alex carefully unwrapped the paper, patterned with glitter snowflakes and slices of pepperoni pizza. “Oh _Michael._ This is beautiful.” 

It was a drawing in chalk pastels of Michael himself, playing guitar in the backyard of The House, dramatically lit by the firepit, a few sparks from the burning logs shining in the foreground. “You look so beautiful in this pic, it was my lock screen for like a month.” He gave his boyfriend a teary smile. “Thank you so much, sweetheart. I love it, I can’t wait to put it in my room.”

“I’m glad. I got crap about doing a picture of myself in class until I told everyone it was a Christmas present for my boyfriend.”

“Mrs. Kisch wondered why I decided to paint a beat-up turquoise truck for my cubist project, but then I told her we were dating and it was for you, and she thought that was the cutest thing ever.” 

Laughing softly, Michael carefully leaned over to kiss Alex softly. “I love you baby. Merry Christmas.”

“I love you too. Merry Christmas.”

They heard yelling and laughter from the third floor and feet running down the stairs. “I think it’s time for breakfast. Ready to greet your family for Christmas morning?”

_My family._ “Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!


End file.
